Water. My miracle drug.

I was totally bumming it this weekend; wearing old clothes, no shaving, and my last shower was Thursday night (yes, gross I know). Can't exactly explain my actions; but then again, should I have to? No big deal, but my wife was ready for the hiatus from clean to be over.

I love to drink. I will drink whatever is near me and usually lots of it; must be a modern camel-sort-of-person. But it is not unusual for me to have 3 to 4 refills of my drink when we go out to eat; 100+ ounces of H2O fall victim to my need each day at work; I always have a running cup of something near me in the house. My thirst is never satisfied; I can always have more. Bother or blessing, I'm not quite sure.

The days are long and hot in the desert. Working out drains the life juice from my body. Yard work is the anti-hydrant. Some people crave a cold soda (maybe diet), beer, lemonade, or their favorite cocktail. But I usually am most pleased with 32 oz of ice cold water; nothing better.

This afternoon, I decided it was time to get clean in a wet sort of way. There is something about a shower that does for my outside what a cold drink does for my tangible soul. The result was a refreshed me, a clean me, and definitely a better smelling me. Rejuvenation is a wonderful thing and I owe it all to my drug of choice; water. My wife has a saying, 'music washes from the soul the dust of everyday life' and I couldn't agree more. So, my ideal recharge would be a relaxing chair after a hot shower with a tall cold one by my side with transcending music filling my ears. Take me to my happy place :)

Natural Hope

The weather changes; cold rolls in
Icy wind cuts like the sharpest knife
Frozen air covers the city at night

Gone are the flowers, birds, and bees
Nature prepares; takes it in stride
Waiting for months; spring to arrive

The land turns to stone; a protective shell
Trees turn to bones, grass a rotting mulch
Seeds hide within to evade annihilation

Isolated from elements; safely one can observe

White covers all; hiding filth of existence
Softening edges, blending seams, mesmerizing
Like the gleam on an executioner’s blade

Sense of false security, descends from above
Peace, love, goodwill; fall on deafened ears
The world a mess… then kids emerge

The bleak wasteland now an arctic paradise
Cold, lifeless landscape alive with laughter
Bad to good, down to up, empty is now full

Innocence, benevolence, love
Living the moment, loving the life
Fun from nothing; nothing from resentment

Enlightened, now prepare; take it in stride
Enjoy nature; loved ones at my side
Waiting for months; spring will arrive.

New York, New York

On this anniversary of most tragic days, I feel compelled to write something if even only for my personal benefit. I remember as a kid hearing my parents talk about the day that JFK was assassinated. I wondered at the clarity of their memories. They could recall where they were; what they were doing; and my mom even what she was wearing. I thought it cool (if that’s possible) that an event could trigger such strong remembrance in someone.

Horrible things happen every day. People die in horrendous ways and under indescribable circumstances. But somehow there is insulation in not knowing the details of each occurrence. That security blanket of ignorance was ripped from me on the morning of September 11, 2001. I recall driving to work (as I normally did) listening to the morning show on my favorite local radio station. They were talking about a plane crash into a building in New York City. At first, I disregarded their comments as they were prone to creating skits for shock and awe. Then my cell phone rang; it was my wife.

The day was spent watching television. Like a fresh addict, my appetite for more was insatiable; channel to channel looking for another picture, eye witness account, or explanation. Denial swept in. This couldn’t actually be happening; in America! 3,000 people died and another 6,000 were injured. I feel for those who died. My prayers go out to the families who lost loved ones. I can’t begin to imagine what that is like. I guess now it’s my turn to share those memories with my own kids.